Diamond Dust
by Komine
Summary: I died 2013, reborn into 1927. Not only that, but also straight into Harry Potter-fictional-London. And god forbid that I am allowed to live a normal life when I'm born into a magical world. No thanks to all the luck of the world, I end up in front of the young and growing Tom Marvolo Riddle, Dark Lord-to-be. Let me tell you, it's not fun. (Quasi)SI-OC -on indefinite hiatus-
1. Unsuspecting

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter not mine.

* * *

 **Summary:** I died 2013, reborn into 1927. Not only that, but also straight into Harry Potter-fictional-London. And god forbid that I am allowed to live a normal life when I'm born into a magical world. No thanks to all the luck of the world, I end up in front of the young and growing Tom Marvolo Riddle, Dark Lord-to-be. Let me tell you, it's not fun.

* * *

Time is a funny thing. It doesn't just go straight, it also goes sideways, backwards and loops over. The last one, especially, I can personally attest to.

I died May 26th, 2013 during a trip to London England.

I was reborn on May 26, 1927 in the same streets of London, England with all my memories intact.

I didn't remember much of what happened the first few years when I was reborn, just bits and pieces. I wasn't fond of the period I was reincarnated in, that was a fact. London was barely picking up from the lasting effects of World War I and I knew that it was not long before World War II struck and all would go to chaos again. It was a funny thing, knowing the future before it happened. It was slightly disturbing too, but I chose not to dwell on that aspect.

Papa was a retired soldier from the war. His once beautiful black hair was beginning to grey but the twinkle in his warm dark brown eyes always made him look younger than he was. He was a kind man and tried all he could to make the best for our small family. Mama was the daughter of a baker and had a wicked way with her bread. Quite literally. I remembered for my second birthday, she brought to the table a rainbow colored cake, with two flickering candles on top. I could have sworn the cake sung to me, but I later realized that it was mama's voice and then remembered that cakes didn't sing. Mama was a beautiful woman, the siren of the street with a melodic voice. She had the the aristocratic features of a noble, the elegant silver blonde hair and bright ice blue eyes that stole the heart of anyone who glanced at them. She died of premature childbirth when I was three, leaving in my arms my preterm baby brother.

He was a tiny thing, pink all over with his skin all wrinkly. His entire tiny little body rested perfectly in papa's big and calloused hands. Papa told me later than he was called Liam Brian, named after my maternal grandfather; just like how I was named Aisling Kristen after my maternal grandmother.

Papa alone could only barely support the entire family financially since both Liam and I were growing children. Participating in WWI had taken a toll on papa and he could not work much. He supported us so far by helping my unmarried uncle at the old bakery where mama and grandpa used to work but the little money was hardly enough, especially since Liam was still a needy, two year old baby.

When I turned five, I told papa I was going to school but that was half a lie. Papa didn't know, couldn't know that I already knew more than what they could have taught me in school. He thought I was a smart kid, bright for my age, but he had no idea the extent of my knowledge and intelligence.

I went to school only for the minimum days in order to fulfill the minimum attendance - which was not enforced as hard during the days. The rest of the time, I had been working to help raise whatever little money I could for our family. I let my hair grow longer and carried myself a little straighter. It made me look more mature and I could easily pass off as a less developed eight year old.

Once papa left for work, the nice old woman Mrs Jenkin would come over and help take care of Liam. I would accept her packed sandwiches and then head off to the streets. Mrs Jenkin knew I wasn't going to school, but she promised not to tell papa.

Liam on the other hand, didn't know anything and it hurt me to lie to him every morning the way I lied to papa except Liam knew even less. "Is school fun, sis?" Liam would ask as we sat together on the table.

"It's fun, Liam, of course it is," I replied, ignoring the tightening of my chest, "you meet a lot of people and friends, and your teachers will teach you all kinds of interesting things."

"I can't wait till I go to school too! I want to be smart like sis." And he would flash me the brightest of smiles.

I would smile guiltily, ignoring the knowing look from Mrs Jenkin and the way my hand shook slightly as I reached out to pet Liam on the head. "You listen to Mrs Jenkin and be a good kid, alright?"

Liam nods and I take my hand back. I share a look with Mrs Jenkin and the old woman nods slightly in return.

"Come home soon, sis!"

I tried my best to smile as I closed the door behind me.

The socio-economic depression didn't make it easier on anyone. Jobs were hard to come along, especially given my age and my gender. I took whatever chance I could for beggars could not be choosers. I worked at cotton mills or fabric factories that were quite a distance away for a while. But I was lucky because I found a rich family who would hire me. The Carters lived at the edge of town in a large mansion with a particularly big garden that they didn't tend to and would pay high sums for anyone to help them take care of their flora and fauna. I visited them once every two to three days to take care of their garden.

I didn't know why they decided to hire me - I was hardly the most promising candidate in what must be a crowd of over fifty people. But they chose me and I thanked the stars.

They were very nice people and tipped generously, sometimes in cookies and other times in cash. The mistress in particular, Diane Carter I believe she was called, favoured me heavily. She would invite me for tea - even while I was working - and would often offer me gifts, all of which I had turned down politely. What was I to do with fancy dresses and ornaments? I couldn't even sell them for people would think I was thieving nor would they offer a good price for them anyways.

They had a son who liked to bother me when I went over there to work. He was two years older than my real age, he was seven, and his name was Richard. I didn't like him much, he was all talk and no walk with a very large ego.

But he was a kid, so I humored him.

He bragged to me about all sorts of things that his family had like balls that would fly around on their own or a clock that would sing you the time when you asked. However, when I asked him to show me, he would say that he's not allowed to do so.

"It's true, Aisling. My dad has a candle that never never goes out! The wick is on fire all the time and the wax never runs out!" Richard insisted as I reached down to pluck out the newly grown weeds. "I asked dad if I could show you but he said no!"

"That's great, Richard," I said dismissively, shaking my head at the amount of weeds there were. I could swear I had only just plucked them a few days ago, there was no way they could grow this quickly.

"I'm serious, Aisling! And then there's this cabinet my dad has! I had to hide this yo-yo that mum bought me since dad wasn't supposed to know so I shoved it in there. But when I checked again, my yo-yo was gone!"

"Sure, Richard."

"It's true, Aisling! If you believe me, I'll give you a cookie. I'll ask Marietta, she doesn't mind." Richard said, a confident grin on his face.

"Absolutely, Richard. You have me all convinced." I was being sarcastic, but Richard didn't seem to notice.

"Brilliant! I'll go ask Marietta to get you a cookie before you go today."

I nodded tiredly as Richard bounced back towards the main house.

See, what did I say? Just a kid.

When Liam turned five, he started school. Papa wanted to enroll Liam in the same school that I was supposedly going to, but we found a school that was closer to the house and decided to send Liam there instead. Liam threw a small tantrum when he found out because he wanted to go to the same school as me but we calmed him down and eventually he agreed. Liam was a good kid.

It was nice period of time for our family - the calm before the storm. I would return home first, before Liam or papa and I would prepare a snack for when Liam came home. The five year old boy would burst open through the door and bound over to me, talking about his day at school - the friends he made, the games he played and the things he learned. And then we would sit down and I would help him with his homework and perhaps a little bit more.

It was a year into Liam's schooling when papa had been called into school about me. I had always skipped a lot of school, without papa's knowledge, but never enough that it raises suspicion and questions - because the school didn't want to care about it as long as it wasn't too serious. I was careless. I was preoccupied with the increase expenses at home and I missed a few days too many. So the school informed papa and that didn't sit well with papa. When I got home that day, papa was not at the bakery as he should but sitting at the dining table with a glass of whiskey in his hands.

Papa didn't drink much, perhaps a glass once in awhile at night after dinner. When I walked up to the table to clear up the empty plates, the bottle was almost empty and I knew something was wrong. The last time papa had drank that much was on the day Liam was born, on the day mama had died.

"Ash, how long were you going to lie to me?" Papa asked, setting down the now empty glass and brushing a hand through his unruly hair. In the past two years, the wrinkles on his forehead became more apparent and his age had begun to show.

"Papa?"

"Aisling Kristen Selwyn." I flinched. Papa hardly ever called me by my first name, much less by my full name. I turned around hesitantly, not daring to make eye contact with papa. "Why didn't you tell me? How long have you been lying to me? Don't try to deny, I asked Mrs Jenkins next door. Since when have you been working, Aisling?"

"I…"

Papa buried his face in his hands.

"Papa…"

"I'm sorry, Eleanor. I'm a terrible husband and a terrible father," Papa shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Aisling, Liam."

"Papa, that's not true. What's wrong?"

I was worried as papa stood up from the table. He was wobbly on his feet after having too many drinks. His face was flushed red and he had a dreamy, detached look on him.

"I'm sorry, I'll go fix it now. I can fix it. I won't run away anymore. It's time we go back."

"Go back? Papa where are we going? It's fine, papa, I don't mind all this, let's not go anywhere, papa." I didn't like the hollow feeling in my chest, the unreasonable fear that I was feeling.

But papa wasn't listening to me. He staggered his way, step by step, heading to the front door. Something at the back of my mind told me that I had to stop him. But what could I do? I was a weak, tiny little nine year old girl and he was a war veteran.

"Papa, no!"

I felt something tugged against my empty hands and then there was a loud, ominous thud.

And then I screamed.

Alistair Leroy Selwyn, my papa, died that night. The people said that he had been drunk and had tripped, landing against the corner of the table, knocking his temple and dying because of the resulting critical head trauma.

That was the first time I had exhibited accidental magic, albeit unknowingly, and the first time I killed someone.

The issue was sorted out quickly, labelled as a tragic accident. Our uncle had refused to take in Liam and I since he didn't have the ability to raise us and with no other registered relatives, we were sent to an orphanage.

Wool's orphanage was an old orphanage, fairly run down and rather packed with kids, but it was the only orphanage that would accept both Liam and me.

Mrs Cole was nice when she came to pick up the two of us. She gave us candy and I gave mine to Liam. On the way, she explained some basic rules of the orphanage like chores and duties, along with a few required classes that we had to take.

When we got there, she gathered up the children and introduced them to Liam and me one by one. They were all commonplace names that didn't seem out of place but they stuck out at me for reasons I couldn't understand. Amy Benson...Dennis Bishop... Billy Stubbs... Eric Whalley...

And then we got to the last boy. He stood slightly further from the rest of the kids and seemed uncaring of his surroundings, aloof. The other kids didn't seem to like him much and I saw them sneering at the boy every now and then.

I couldn't see why. The boy was pretty, and by that I meant very pretty, the type of face that children loved to be friends with. As long as he wasn't too mean there was no reason why the other children would hate him that much.

The boy turned to look at Liam, then at me. He was staring straight at me when he said his name.

"My name is Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle."

My blood ran cold. That was the first time I suspected - no, knew - that my second life was not all that it seemed.

* * *

 **Edit 05/07/16** : Modified a few minor details about Aisling's schooling and working before Alistair's death to make them a bit more realistic to the period of time. Thanks to anon review for pointing it out.


	2. Unnatural

Harry Potter.

It was a series of children's books that I spent my entire childhood reading and my teenage years rereading. To imagine it as anything other than a piece of fiction as I had known it was already hard, but to think that I was reborn in the actual story, in the actual timeline with all my memories of this world and more? That was absolutely ridiculous.

This had to be a dream, a nightmare. Only that it was not. To me, it was very, very real. And with such a revelation, came questions. Questions, assumptions, confusions, doubts and answers.

But thinking about it made my head hurt and my heart beat too quickly for my liking, so I tried not to think about it. In fact, I actively avoided the thoughts that steered that way.

I did, however, pay attention to Tom Riddle because as much as I didn't want to think about it, as much as I tried to ignore my knowledge of this world and its future, Tom Riddle was an immediate threat that I had to acknowledge. And so I did.

Tom Riddle was a silent, loner kid who kept to himself most of the time and went to bully Billy Stubbs the rest. It was perfectly fine by me, because I really, really didn't want anything to do with him. I stayed away from him and played with the other kids, a girl called Emily Waters that never came up in the book. Liam and Dennis became rather close and when I saw them play together with Amy Benson, my heart dropped. I played the role of the mean sister for the moment and pulled Liam away, telling him not to play with Amy or Dennis. Liam didn't understand why, nor did I tell him why; but he was a good kid so he listened to me.

I stopped playing with Emily Waters as well and stuck with Liam all the time. I guarded him like a hawk from the other kids at the orphanage. No one was allowed to touch my precious little brother. I hoped that it would steer him clear of all the trouble in this orphanage, especially the big bad one by the name of Tom Riddle.

Naturally, nothing would ever go according to the way I wished it would.

For reasons I didn't know, Tom Riddle had taken to bullying my little brother. I'm not sure why, or how, or when but Tom Riddle seemed to have gotten bored of bullying Billy Stubbs that time after Billy's bunny 'hung itself' in the attic. He needed a new target, a new source of entertainment and that turned out to be none other than Liam.

Whenever I went to find my brother, I would see him sporting bruises and scratches but he refused to tell me what happened when I asked. I had my theories when I saw Billy Stubbs looking happier and healthier while my brother, on the other hand, began to withdraw from me more and more.

My doubts were confirmed when I saw Tom Riddle knocking on Liam's door. Common sense told me to stay away but I pushed forward anyways, since this was Liam we were talking about, my brother. I steeled myself and took a deep breath and then I tapped the future Dark Lord on the shoulder.

Now that I thought about it, it was the first time I ever talked to Tom Riddle in the past year since my brother and I moved into Wool's. I did wish him a 'Happy Birthday' as per required by the matron when his birthday came around and he, mine when my birthday came around, but that hardly counted as any form of conversation.

We were around the same height, I was a little taller than him, by half a head because, you know, girls develop earlier and all that. His look was condescending as his eyes met mine. He didn't say anything and I realized he was waiting for me to explain myself. Of course.

I considered starting off polite, but then discarded that idea. So I narrowed my eyes and glared at him, my tone of voice taking on a venomous side I usually kept hidden. "It's you who has been bullying my brother, isn't it, Riddle?"

I didn't wait for his response before I socked him in the jaw.

In retrospect, that was probably not the smartest course of action. Then again, I didn't really think it through. It just seemed like a great idea in that spur of moment. Riddle was not expecting it and I managed to knock him on the floor, right on his backside. He scowled at me, anger clear in his eyes.

"Stay away from my brother." I didn't sound as intimidating as I wanted to and obviously, Riddle wasn't feeling very threatened. He was smirking at me. I narrowed my eyes at him.

He opened his mouth, about to speak but I never heard what he was about to say. There was a squeak as the door to Liam's room opened and Liam peeked out from the gap, his gaze travelling between me, standing with my fists out, and Riddle, sprawled on the floor smirking at me, the beginning of a bruise forming around the left of his jaw.

"Liam, go back into your room and close the door," I said in a leveled voice.

Riddle, however, seemed to fancy other plans. He recovered quickly from his fallen position on the floor and set his eyes on my little brother. My eyes narrowed and I reached out in an attempt to stop him but Riddle was much closer to the door than I was and my arms were hardly long enough to reach him in a second.

"No!"

And then I felt it again, the same tug in my hands before Tom Riddle tripped over nothing and fell onto the floor, face first. It was the same as the night my father died, only this time I was aware of it. I blinked and stared down at my hands, horror written over my face. I looked at Riddle who was sprawled on the floor, again, and now looking at me curiously.

"I…" I could seem to form a thought in my mind. What was that? Could it be? Could I be? No. I steeled my stare at Riddle. He seemed as shocked as me, seeing as he had yet to recover from his position on the floor. "J-Just stay away from my brother!" I sounded pathetic, but I didn't care. I walked past him and hurried into Liam's room, slamming the door behind me.

I stood there, my back against the door, panting heavily. I think Liam was calling me but I couldn't hear it over the pounding of my heart. My vision blurred slightly as I slid to the floor.

"Sis!" There was a hand on my shoulder and Liam's face came rather close to mine. He looked worried. "Ash, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Liam," I forced a smile on my face as I gingerly stood up again.

I didn't ask for an explanation as to what was going on between Liam and Riddle. I merely asked Liam to stay away from the latter and he nodded silently. Riddle stopped bothering Liam too, it seems, and I was relieved at that, until I noticed the eerie way he stared at me.

And then my streak of 'bad luck' began.

A streak of bad luck that went by the name of 'Tom Riddle'.

Either I would trip over nothing when my arms were full of breakable plates or the perfectly fine chair I was sitting on would suddenly collapse under my weight. The floors would be especially dirty when it was my turn on cleaning duty or my favorite dress would turn up in rags after the wash. And every single time, Tom Riddle would be looking at my reaction, wearing that smug smirk of his.

Every time, I would look away and continue to pretend that he didn't exist.

And then I exhibited accidental magic for the third time.

I was absolutely terrified, cradling the tiny bird in my hands that was trying hard to escape my hold and fly away. The tiny pygmy owl had landed on my windowsill the other night with an injured wing. I took it in, cleaned its wound with some rubbing alcohol and bandaged it up. I made it a makeshift nest out of some of my old clothes.

I had been stroking its injured wing, sighing and wondering how long it would take for it to cure and get better when the wing began glowing under my hand. My eyes widened as I immediately snatched my hand away, but the damage was done, or rather, the healing was done.

It hooted, way too loudly, and fluttered its wings in my hands. I fought to keep it still against my body until I got out of the building where I could let it free.

Luckily it was still early in the day and most of the children were either downstairs or out instead of hanging around their bedrooms like me. I hastily made my way down the creaking stairs and out into the backyard where Eric Whalley was playing with Amy Benson, though the latter was hardly as responsive as she was supposed to be. The trip to the seashore took place a month ago. I managed to skip it because I fell ill at the very last minute and Liam stayed with me. Amy and Dennis came back weird, just like the books said.

Finding a shady spot behind the building, I held out my hands and let the small owl flutter his wings properly. It hooted a few times before taking flight, turning around to nip softly at my fingers before flying away.

I sighed softly to myself as I watched it go.

"I saw that, Selwyn."

I froze in my spot, my heartrate stopping for a moment before jumping up way over two hundred beats per minute. I kept my gaze in the sky, staring at the empty space where I last spotted the pygmy owl.

Pretend he didn't exist. Pretend he wasn't talking to me. Pretend I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Selwyn, don't ignore me."

I turned, ready to walk the other way back into the building with my back towards him. He was not talking to me, he was not talking to me.

"Selwyn."

He's not talking to me, he's not-

His hand was around my wrist the next moment, pulling me back. I froze the moment I heard the hissing, watching the snakes slither around us and blocking my way.

"If you turn to face me right now and stop ignoring me, then the snakes won't bite you."

His voice was steady, but there was the obvious smugness in it. I sized up the snakes that were hissing, standing on their tails and ready to strike at me. Then I dared a glance at Riddle from the corner of my eye. He was smirking now.

"Selwyn."

I turned around with the most composed face I had. I stared at him in the eye with a raised eyebrow and waited. I tried to shake my wrist free of his but his grip was tight. I frowned.

"I saw what happened," he said finally, ignoring my attempts to break free of his grip.

I paused my efforts and looked up at him for a moment. "I'm afraid I do not understand what you are referring to, Riddle. Now if you please." I glanced down at my wrist.

"The bird's wing. A broken wing doesn't heal within a day, Selwyn."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied again, sounding more confident than I felt. I tried not to shudder at the way his eyes narrowed into a cold glare. I wouldn't let him have the satisfaction. "I have daily chores today, Riddle, if you don't have anything worthwhile to say, I should get going."

"You weren't all that enthusiastic about your chores a moment ago, Selwyn," Riddle drawled in response. I tugged on my wrist, but he had no intention of letting me go it seemed. "Is it so hard to just admit it? You're different, special, like me."

"I'm nothing like you," I hissed immediately, gritting my teeth at him. "I'm not different or special like you seemed to have deluded yourself into thinking, Riddle. Just stay away from me." I wanted to slap that smirk off his face so bad, but that would be playing into his hands and I refused to be manipulated by Tom Riddle.

"And would you like me to pay special attention to your darling little brother instead?"

My eyes widened in a moment and I directed my best glare at Riddle. My free hand gripped into a tight fist. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a question, Selwyn," Riddle replies smoothly, "how you take it is up to you."

"Stay away from my brother, Riddle." His eyes seemed to light up at something I said - or something I didn't say. His grip on my wrist loosened and I took the chance to tug my hand free. "And stay away from me too."

I turned and left before he could send his snakes after me again. It could've just been just the pounding of my heart or maybe I really did run all the way back to my room. Regardless, I was too far to hear the way Riddle laughed behind me. Naturally, I also didn't catch the smirk on his face.

* * *

Riddle seemed to have decided on an answer for me despite my telling him to leave me alone. My streak of bad luck stopped for the most part but I earned myself a stalker - male, eleven years old, undeniably pretty for a growing boy and they called him Tom. That said, calling him just a stalker was probably an understatement, an unwanted parasite was probably a better and more apt description; he was with me almost all the time, in my near vicinity in the very least if not directly next to me.

I had kept a fairly friendly relationship with the other children in the orphanage. I wasn't close with any of them, but we would talk and play together on the occasion - especially with Emily Waters who I enjoy chatting with very much. Ever since Tom Riddle shadowed me, however, everyone stopped talking to me and no one interacted with me with the exception of Liam and the matrons in the orphanage.

It was Riddle's fault, not that it wasn't obvious at all. It was like his own sick way of laying a claim on me. When I looked at him accusingly because another child just backed away from the room the moment they stepped in, he would smirk smugly at me; and if I made a move to swap locations, he would follow me around. Maybe I was just being stubborn but it only made me refuse to relent and ignore him even more.

School time was the only time that I was allowed a breather from Riddle.

We had to take mandatory classes at the orphanage. There was a small government subsidized classroom down the street and we would go there for five hours a day to study various simple subjects like reading, writing, mathematics and social studies to name a few.

The teachers at the classroom doted on the boy - not only was he smart but he was also polite and pleasant to be with. But despite all the doting that Riddle received from the teachers, the other students there didn't like him much. The other students initially worked very hard for Riddle's attention. He was good looking and smart, even though he was an orphan, but definitely someone worth being friends with. Riddle disagreed and he made it clear that he thought the other students weren't worth his time.

"He's staring at you, again."

It was lunch time and I sat in the corner of the small classroom with Emily Waters next to me. Her eyes flicker from my face to the general direction of the classroom before biting into her packed lettuce and tomato sandwich.

She was naturally referring to Tom Riddle. Riddle didn't bother me much in school - outwardly at least. Yet it was his occasional stares, the way his eyes followed me around as if he was waiting that made me - and by extension Emily - uncomfortable.

"Why is he always staring at you?"

"No idea." I shook my head in reply, biting into my own sandwich which was the same as Emily's. "He's always been odd, it's nothing new."

Emily shrugged. "He's not being mean to you, is he? You should tell Mrs. Cole if he is."

"No, he's not." I shook my head.

To be fair, Tom Riddle really wasn't doing anything to me personally or physically. I didn't exactly have proof that he was stalking me because it could be easily be countered. Neither the orphanage nor the classroom were big in size and everywhere that I went, he had the right to go. It just so happened to be the same as mine, always.

"Maybe you should tell him to stop."

I almost snorted at Emily's words. If I could, I would have done that long ago. But if I did, Riddle would simply turn his attention to someone else in the orphanage and the last thing I needed was for him to pay 'special attention' to Liam again.

Besides, Riddle wasn't going to give up that easily - not when I could possibly be the same thing that he was and I shuddered at the thought. It wasn't fascination that he had. It was anger, hatred and jealousy.

Tom Riddle liked being special, he liked to think that he was different from everyone. But as it turned out, he wasn't the only one with magic. I was special too and I didn't seem to accept it as he did. So I ended up on the future Dark Lord's shitlist. Because I threatened his special position, because how dare I be the same as him but not embrace it, how dare I not follow his example, how dare I not listen to him. It was a very childish mentality but I didn't suppose I expected anything better.

"It doesn't bother me," I told Emily, giving her a soft smile. I was a terrible liar and Emily saw through it right away but she didn't probe and the conversation dropped.

"I am supposed to be helping you with math. Apparently you scored terrible on your test." Emily raised an eyebrow at me as she said the words slowly. "I don't really have to help you, do I?"

I shook my head.

"Thought so. You were the one who helped me get a perfect on my homework after all," Emily rolled her eyes at me. "Sometimes I just don't get you at all. Completely annoyed by Riddle but won't deal with it, probably smarter than the teachers but continuously flunks your tests, the worst liar I've seen but a chronic liar nonetheless…You're so weird, Aisling."

"I don't flunk my tests, I just score really bad."

"For no apparent reason at all," Emily sighed. "Or is there one? There is one, isn't there? You know what, I'm not even going to try to ask, you won't tell me anyways." She stood up, crushing the empty plastic wrap into a ball and headed for the garbage bin on the other side of the classroom.

There really wasn't any deep reason for not scoring well, I just didn't want to stand out. But I just wasn't as good at manipulating my grades as I thought I was and I ended up flushing any impression of my being a good student down the drain. I've been steadily aiming for improvements in my grades in order to make it appear not as suspicious, but steadily took time - just longer in my case as I was a little too paranoid.

When I looked up from my finished sandwich, Riddle was still staring at me. I had a feeling he heard the conversation in between Emily and me, but even if he did, it didn't bother me much. So I ignored him and went on with whatever I was supposed to do.

I wrote up the compensating extra homework I received because of my terrible grade that night. It was raining outside so I couldn't open the window, so I left the door to my room open instead for air circulation. Riddle snorted when he passed by my room. I didn't acknowledge him. He stalked off after a while, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

The next morning, my homework was gone. I found half of it smoking next to the fireplace, the other half of it burned to crisps.


	3. Unprepared

"Ash!"

I lowered the book that I was reading and looked towards the entrance of the drawing room. Liam stood there with a bright smile on his face, waving something in his hands. "I got full marks in my math test."

He bounded towards the couch that I sat on and took a seat beside me, showing his test paper to me excitedly. "You were right Ash! They really did add the difficult questions in the test, the ones that you told me to specifically study for."

I chuckled slightly, petting him on his head as I looked through his test. Liam was smart, _really_ smart for a kid his age. I cheated my way through knowledge and intellect but Liam was different. He was, undoubtedly, a genius and it showed in his results. The tests they give at school were by no means hard but they weren't that easy either. Yet Liam almost always scored close to perfect on his tests, if not full marks.

"I heard you turned down another adoption yesterday," I said to him as I finally turned my gaze away from the sheet. "Liam, why is that?"

"Because they didn't want to take you too, Ash! I don't want to be separated from you," He frowned at me, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.

I understood where he was coming from and I couldn't deny that I felt the same way as well. Liam was my last blood related family in this world, I would not part with him if I could help it. But I didn't know if Liam was magical. So far, I hadn't seen one spectacle of accidental magic from him. It was obvious what that meant - that it was very likely that I would be separated from Liam sooner or later.

I didn't know if Hogwarts was voluntary, but my name was probably down on the book and I would be expected to go when the time came. I wouldn't deny that it was partially selfish on my part. I wanted to go to Hogwarts, very much so and I didn't know if I was strong and determined enough to refuse the opportunity, even if it's for Liam. But at the same time, I couldn't just leave Liam alone if he turned out to not be magical.

"We've talked about this already, Liam," I sighed, tilting my head to look at him, "It would be best for you if you get adopted into a proper family."

Liam looked at me, his blue eyes wide and watery. I sighed and pushed his face away in jest but that was all it took for the conversation to drop. Liam knew that I could never say no when he gave me those puppy dog eyes of his and knew to use that point to his advantage.

Even though he was only at the age of eight, Liam was a very good looking boy. Naturally, he was nothing special compared to the likes of Tom Riddle - who currently sat in the other couch on the opposite end of the drawing room - but he was definitely prettier than the other boys. And it's with this pretty face that he got away with a lot of things, with me and with other people.

"By the way, Ash, I asked Mrs Cole. She gave us permission to leave the orphanage in the afternoon on Friday as long as Martha goes with us," Liam said, a mischievous smile on his face. "We can celebrate your birthday out." Mrs Cole was another person with whom Liam always got his way with. She doted on him, more so than the other children - though it wasn't hard to see why.

"Alright, so what do you want to do?"

"Can we visit Uncle Sean?" Liam suggested, looking hopeful. He was referring to Sean Macmillan, our uncle who declined to take us in when papa had died. "I asked Mrs Cole where Uncle Sean's bakery is and she gave me the address." Liam dug into the pockets of his coat and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, Mrs Cole handwriting was on it and it showed an address quite a distance away.

"We could go." I smiled at him, taking the piece of from his hand and folding it.

And that was how I spent my eleventh birthday: taking buses, walking with Liam holding onto my hand and Martha, a kind girl a few years older than me who worked at the orphanage but didn't speak much, following behind us. We were exempted from going to class that day and were given the five hours of schooling time for our little field trip. Leaving at noon, it took us two hours before we finally arrived at our destination. There was a lot of map checking and asking strangers for directions - people during the time weren't the nicest sort and it often took a while to get an answer.

What greeted us, however, was not what we expected. At the exact same address that Mrs Cole had given us, a bookstore stood instead of the bakery that we were expecting. We spent a few minutes wondering if we had gone to the wrong place but we didn't and the address on the paper matched. Perhaps Mrs Cole had given us the wrong address? Martha replied that this was the registered address in our files.

Liam was crestfallen. I tried to ask around to see if anyone knew what had happened to the bakery that was there two years ago but no one seemed to recall anything of the sort. I asked Martha if we could take a detour, she checked the time and said we had maybe three hours left before we had to go back.

That was more than enough time.

With Liam in tow and Martha following, I took them through the familiar streets until we came to stand before a run down building that was painted grey. We went up to the second floor of the building via the stairs on the side and I knocked on the door three doors down.

When the door opened, it revealed an old lady, her hair greyer than I remembered it to be, her face filled with wrinkles and a tired look in her pale green eyes. She looked up at me for a moment and then turned to narrow her eyes at Martha who stood a few steps away before her gaze turned to Liam standing beside me. Mrs Jenkin's smiled in recognition.

"Mrs Jenkins!" Liam said loudly as he ran and hugged the old woman around her waist.

The old woman invited us in and laid out cups of tea for us. She didn't have any sandwiches or cookies to offer as she grew out of the habit after we left but she sliced a few pieces of bread on a plate and offered it to us with jam. We sat around her tiny coffee table and I asked her about the bakery. Apparently after Liam and I had been sent away, Uncle Sean continued his shop for about two months before he closed it down and left without telling anyone where he was going. No one had heard from him since.

I watched as Liam's gaze turned down and he looked even more sullen than earlier. It's not hard to see why. Uncle Sean doted on Liam while we still lived with Papa. On the occasion that we would go and visit Papa at the bakery, Uncle Sean often offered snacks, showed tricks and gave gifts to Liam - and me when Liam asked about it, but mainly Liam. Unlike me, Liam really did love his uncle.

Uncle Sean didn't love me much and it showed. Maybe it was because Liam looked more like mama - and Uncle Sean by extension - with beautiful blonde hair like golden silk and ice blue eyes that were bright and vibrant like glaciers. Maybe it was simply because Liam was a boy, I didn't know. I wasn't bitter about it; it didn't feel good when compared to how he treated Liam but I accepted it the way it was.

I felt a pat on my shoulder and I looked up to see Mrs Jenkins smiling at me kindly. I nodded at her, smiling softly in return. "You should visit the Carters," she mentioned.

I was surprised, slightly taken back and it showed in the way my eyes widened and I jolted in my seat. The Carters - the family that I had worked for while I was still living here. It didn't occur to me at all that I should visit them, nor did I have a reason to visit them.

Mrs Jenkins chuckled softly, "Diane was curious why you suddenly left so I told her. She's been worried since."

"You know Mrs Carter?" I tilted my head. Mrs Carter was worried about me? The lady had always been very kind to me, but I didn't expect this.

"Not until after you left." The older woman shook her head, "Diane came here, looking for you when you didn't turn up for a week. We met then. She's a pleasant woman, and I can see she cares for you, Aisling. You should pay her a visit."

Before I could open my mouth to speak, Martha interrupted the conversation. "We don't have enough time. We have to go back soon." At her words, I looked up at the clock that hung on Mrs Jenkin's floral printed wall. It read half past three. Mrs Cole said we had to return by five.

"Well that's a shame then," Mrs Jenkins said, casting Martha a glance before turning back to me. "You don't mind me letting Diane know how you are, do you?"

"Oh. No, of course not," I replied quickly, "please, help me thank Mrs Carter for worrying and let her know that I'm fine." Mrs Jenkins nodded and I gave her a reassuring smile.

We didn't stay long at Mrs Jenkin's. We had some idle chat afterwards but it was kept short and by quarter to four, we were already heading out the door. Liam gave the old woman a long hug and she gave us both pats on our shoulders as we left.

"Feel free to visit whenever you want to," Mrs Jenkins say as she stands at the doorway, "and, happy eleventh birthday, Aisling."

The trip back to the orphanage was fairly quick. We arrived back at the gates by four thirty. Seeing as we still had a bit more time before we were expected back, Martha agreed to make a short detour to the candy store around the corner. We had some extra money left from my given allowance for the day so I let Liam choose a few treats. He asked if I wanted any but I wasn't a fan of sweets so I shook my head and had him pick.

Once we were back at the orphanage, Martha left us and went to continue whatever work she had to do leaving Liam and I standing at the entrance. We were removed from the daily roster of chores for the day because of our little field trip. I told Liam to go put down his treats and take a shower before dinner. He gave me a smile before hopping off.

I was about to head to the drawing room to drop off the book I had borrowed for reading during the trip when someone blocked my path. He stood in front of me, arms crossed and his unpleasant gaze fixed on my face.

"We're not allowed to skip school and skip chores for a trip on birthdays. What did you do?" Riddle narrowed his eyes at me.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I turned away, "we were out helping Martha with errands." That was the cover story that Mrs Cole told the rest of the children concerning our little outing today. Obviously, Riddle didn't buy it.

"I'm not stupid, Selwyn. Don't group me up with the other idiots in this place," he stepped forward. "What did you do to let Mrs Cole let you go out?" He reached out and grabbed onto my shoulder, I shrank away in reflex but failed to dodge his grip. I glared at the hand that clawed into my shoulder and then at him.

"It's none of your business." I raised my hand to push his hand off, but if anything, he only tightened his grip. I winced. "You're hurting me."

He didn't seem to care - not that I expected him to - and he kept his grip on me. "Tell me."

I held his demanding stare with mine. I refused to back down. I didn't know what I was thinking when I opened my mouth again.

"You're just jealous," I commented. "Because even though you think you're so special, you're not the one who got to spend your birthday outside. In fact, no one wanted to celebrate your birthday!" He might have been surprised at my words as I felt his grip loosen all of a sudden, I took the chance to shake his hand off and pushed him away.

And then I turned around and stalked away.

Riddle's revenge happened later that night, when I was heading upstairs to my bed after dinner.

He stood on the top of the flight of stairs, looking livid. His eyes twitched. I felt something pull my feet from underneath me and the next thing I knew, I was falling backwards. He was still smirking at me as I hit the back of my head against the railing and blacked out.

I fell down half a flight of stairs, hit my head and fractured my elbow. I wasn't unconscious for very long, perhaps a few minutes, but it was long enough for Riddle to disappear from the scene and create an alibi for himself.

They called in the charity doctor, Dr. Martin, from down the street to give me a check up. He wrapped my arm up in a big and ugly cast that smelled of chemicals and sweaty socks. I explained that I was distracted and had missed a step while I was heading up the stairs. The doctor and the matrons at the orphanage seemed to accept it as the reason but I noticed Mrs Cole casting a long glance at the door, or more specifically, the figure that stood by the door - Tom Riddle. He turned his heels and left when he caught Mrs Cole's gaze.

A plus side to the incident was that Riddle had stopped following me. I wasn't sure why or what was going on in his little head but it was a nice change. Another plus was that I was exempted from chores that required more than one hand to accomplish - which made up the majority of them. I did bring up the topic with Riddle a few days later when I caught him alone in the corridors, he gave me a face that stunk of rotten eggs and walked away.

Liam sulked and pouted for the entire period while my arm was recovering. I lost Riddle as a stalker but I gained a little shadow in the form of my little brother. He made it his job to become my new hand and arm and taking into his hand little matters that I could have accomplished myself. But it was cute, watching him trying to balance two bowls of oatmeal in the morning or watching him trying to flip the pages on two books at the same time. I relished in being pampered by my little brother.

But of course, the good days didn't last long. I made a speedy recovering in a month - two weeks shorter than Dr. Martin's expected recovery period and was back on the on the roster for chores and duties. It felt nice, having the heavy and uncomfortable cast taken off my arm. It was already summer and the hot weather made it unbelievably disgusting with my arm in the cast, mainly because of sweat.

Despite my full recovery, Liam didn't stop worrying over me. It took me some time before I was able to convince Liam that I was fine and that I didn't need him to help me do everything anymore.

"Ash, you're fidgeting again."

I flinched at the sudden feeling of a hand over mine and immediately regretted it. It was just Liam and the look on his face made me feel like I just kicked a puppy. I gave him a smile to reassure him but he still looked concerned, dropping his spoon into his empty bowl. I stare down at my own bowl in front of me, three quarters full of untouched watery onion soup, but was unable to muster any appetite to dig into it. I pushed my bowl of soup in Liam's direction and fluidly picked up his empty bowl instead.

"Here, I'm not hungry. You can have my bowl." I murmur as I left the table and went to drop the dirty dishes in the sink. I missed the sink and dropped the bowl on to the floor instead. The spoon bounced out of the bowl and made a loud clanging sound against the wooden floor while the wooden bowl bumped against cupboards before hitting the floor with an even louder sound. I cursed under my breath as I knelt down to pick them up. A hand reached out and picked up the bowl before I could. I looked up to see Emily staring at me with a raised eyebrow.

"You okay, Aisling? You're distracted."

Calling it distracted was an understatement. I gave Emily a sheepish smile as I stood back up, taking the bowl back from her. "Just...thinking of things."

"You've been thinking of a lot of things since your birthday then," Emily kept her eyebrows raised. "Or is that not the reason why you slipped and broke your arm last month?" Emily was too perceptive for her own good sometimes.

"I have a lot on my mind," I shrugged, not elaborating anymore. Emily probably wouldn't believe me even if I told her what 'a lot' was: Riddle, Magic, Dumbledore, Hogwarts and Liam. It's three months till September, before which Dumbledore would come to recruit Riddle to Hogwarts and likely me too.

I had been avoiding the topic or anything related to it for the longest time, convincing myself that I still had time and I didn't have to worry about it yet. It only occurred to me during my rehabilitation period. I didn't have chores so I had much more free time to myself, and free time to myself meant more time to think. I realized I was eleven and that Tom Riddle was eleven. And that as much as I tried to ignore the passing of time, what I dreaded was looming right behind me and I had less than two months left.

Liam pointed out that I had been fidgeting a lot lately. As it turned out, I had a habit of fidgeting with either my fingers or my hair when I was lost in thoughts - in this case, when I began thinking and panicking over things that I didn't think about before. It didn't help that nothing else seemed to be making the situation better.

Liam had turned down yet another adoption merely two days ago and we had gotten into quite a heated argument over his decision afterwards. It didn't last long as I eventually relented but it didn't mean I accepted his decision.

"Liam's worried, you know." Emily's words interrupted my thoughts. "He came to me yesterday, asking if I knew anything about what's up with you. He thinks you're upset with him for turning down the adoption again. But that's not it, is it?"

"No!" I shook my head quickly before pausing. "Well, yes...partially. Him turning down the adoption isn't the reason, but I wouldn't say it's not completely unrelated." I sighed, setting down the spoon and the bowl back into the sink. "It's…complicated."

"Sounds like everything about you is complicated," Emily snorted, crossing her arms. I grimaced at her words. "Alright, don't tell me. But I think Liam has the right to know."

I let out a dry laugh at Emily's words and she narrowed her eyes at me. If only it was that easy. What was I supposed to tell Liam?

'Hey, your sister, me? I'm actually a witch, I can do magic even though you can't and I'm really thinking about ditching you to go to this school in Scotland in maybe two months where I can study magic so you better get yourself adopted soon because it's just making it hard for me.'

No way. I might as well tell him about being reincarnated in this world and knowing the future for when he asked me the hows, the whys and the whats.

"I'll think about it," I murmured.

"It's none of my business but you're being really unfair to Liam, you know that?" Emily pointed out, rolling her eyes when I frowned at her. "I don't like seeing you dance around Liam like that because every time you do that, you just become sad."

I didn't reply her. I only stood there, staring at the floor. Emily got tired of waiting rather quickly and left the kitchen afterwards.

In the end, the question came down to whether or not I was able to put Liam before myself. I had less than two months to figure out an answer to that question.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to collect myself. It's almost the end of mealtime, the other children would be coming into drop their dirty dishes too. There were better places to think about the question that the kitchen. When I finally collected myself and was about to leave the kitchen, a figure blocked my path. Tom Riddle stood by the doorway to the kitchen, observing me.

"You know something, Selwyn." He said simply as he moved past me to drop his bowl and spoon into the sink. I was frozen in my spot, waiting for what else he had to say. He cast me a glance as he left but said nothing more. It wasn't until he reached the doorway did he turn around at me, smirking. "Why else, Selwyn, do you look like the world is about to end?"

* * *

 **Note:** I edited the first chapter slightly to make things more realistic to the setting since an anon review had pointed out certain mistakes that I made. The changes do not impact the story as a whole.


	4. Unconvinced

It's hard keeping secrets, but as the years went by, I got better at the act. I got used to keeping secrets, to lie my way out of telling them and to keep track of the lies I used to cover up. Or so I thought.

Emily always called me a terrible liar, but she never questioned too much. She knew I was lying and she left it at that. Riddle knew I would never tell him the truth, as much as he tried so he taunted me, he pressured me but he never expected anything.

And then there's Liam. I could never bring myself to lie to Liam, but I couldn't help but keep secrets from him, big ones and small ones. He didn't question them when he was young, listening to me and accepting whatever I told him. But he was growing up. Liam was smart. He noticed things, things that I would rather him not. He didn't raise the questions out loud, but I saw the way he looked at me and I saw the way he frowned whenever things didn't match up with what he knew.

So instead of telling him, I had been avoiding answering him, and I had been for a while. Despite Emily's advice that I had to tell Liam, I couldn't bring myself to. What would he think when he found out? It would impact the relationship I had with him, there was no doubt about it. And he would ask questions, he would ask even more questions - questions that I didn't know how to answer and questions that I couldn't answer.

Each day seemed to drag on forever as I made an effort not only to avoid Liam, but anyone else who could be looking for me in general. I didn't want to hear Emily point out how irresponsible and how selfish I was being and neither did I need Riddle to jab at me when I was already wallowing in my own self-inflicted guilt.

But I couldn't avoid him forever, perhaps anyone else, but not Liam.

He came knocking on my door within four days, after dinner. I tried ignoring him, focusing on the book that lay open in front of me. He knocked again and then through the door, I heard his muffled voice. "Ash. Did I do something wrong? Are you angry at me?" He sounded on the verge of tears and I felt all the resolve I had melt in a second; the guilt was overwhelming. Liam didn't do anything wrong, he shouldn't be the one about to cry.

I sighed deeply before closing my book and head towards the door. I barely opened a gap before the door barged open and Liam ran in, throwing himself at me. He was shaking.

"I'm sorry Ash, I'm sorry for whatever I did. I tried, I really tried but I couldn't figure out what it was that I did. But I'm sorry. Tell me and I won't do it again."

I opened my mouth only to find my tongue tied, thinking of a reply. My chest tightened and the guilt was hard to swallow. Liam buried himself further into my arms at my lack of a reply and I wrapped my arms around his body to reassure him. Only then did Liam become to calm down, his body shaking less. I still didn't know what to say so I slowly drew circles on his back soothingly instead until he stopped shaking but kept his arms wrapped around me and his head buried in my chest.

"What did Emily say?" I asked finally. Liam wouldn't barge into my room like this on his own. Emily must have said something to make him do so.

"She didn't say anything," Liam mumbled against the sweater I was wearing, the words slightly muffled as a result. I didn't reply and the room was silent for a while. Eventually Liam spoke up again, tightening his arms around my waist. "She said you were being stupid and selfish and unreasonable and that she was going to come slap you awake. But my sister isn't stupid or selfish or unreasonable, I know that, so it has to be my fault. Is it my fault, Ash?" He finally looked up at me, his blue eyes watery and looking like a kicked puppy.

"No," I reply, stopping the circular movements of my hands on his back as I do, my gaze drifting from him and to a dingy corner of the room I'm in. "It's not your fault. It's…nothing. Emily's right, I was being stupid and selfish. I'm sorry Liam, will you forgive me?"

Liam finally pulled back slightly and looked at me with his big doe eyes, a smile slowly spreading across his face. He nodded quickly with a squeal before giving my waist a tight squeeze. I chuckled and I decided right then. For all the trouble the decision of going to Hogwarts gave, it wasn't worth it.

Sure, I would get to learn magic but I would have to deal with Riddle and Dumbledore and all the darkness that the wizarding world was currently going through due to Grindelwald. Besides, World War II was just around the corner, I couldn't leave Liam alone through that. I just couldn't.

And so I convinced myself that Hogwarts didn't matter, that I chose Liam over Hogwarts. Half the burden lifted off my shoulders, the other would remain for a long time - the regret of not being able to go to Hogwarts, but I told myself that I was making the right decision.

Two weeks later, near the end of July. Dumbledore knocked on the door to Wool's Orphanage.

It was a very hot and dry day - surprisingly given the British climate - and the sun glared down from high above. It was a Sunday, so we didn't have to go to class. Dumbledore came after lunch. Liam was down at the kitchens as it was his turn on the roster for washing dishes today. I had nothing to do until it was time to prepare for dinner so I stayed in the drawing room, reading - Charles Dickens' _Great Expectations_. A horribly boring book, in my honest opinion, but the library at the orphanage didn't have much to choose from. It was better than _Wuthering Heights_ at least, or _Pride and Prejudice_.

Emily came over and stared at the cover, furrowing her brows into a frown. "You can understand what it says in there?" she asks, nodding at the book in my hands. I shrugged at her and nodded. She wrinkled her nose at me. "And the teacher always says you're dumb. Anyways, I saw Mrs Cole just now in her office with this old man in a purple suit. They were talking about Riddle."

She stopped there, looking at me expectantly. I looked up at her, trying to keep my face controlled so my expression didn't betray my knowledge. Purple suit? Definitely Dumbledore.

"And?" I prompted after Emily stayed quiet.

Emily raised her eyebrow slightly before continuing. "Well, I didn't really catch much of what they said. They're taking him away, I think. Good riddance. I hope it's the asylum."

"I didn't know you had such opinions about Riddle," I murmured, turning my attention back to my book again.

"But I also hope it's not the asylum," Emily continued, her eyes narrowing at me. I pretended I wasn't aware of her gaze. "They also mentioned your name. Are you-"

"It doesn't matter," I interrupted her quickly, "I'm not going."

"But you knew didn't you," Emily's reply was just as quick. "That's what you were distracted about until two weeks ago. You _want_ to go."

I shut the book with more force than necessary and scowled at Emily. "I'm. not. Going. I'm not going to leave Liam alone like this."

"Liam can take care of himself more than you think." She commented offhandedly, "besides, if Liam knows about this, he won't let you refuse."

"It's my choice." I said, my voice low. "And it's not up for discussion." I left the book on a coffee table near the chair I was sitting in and stood up. I gave Emily a look while she just shrugged at me as if what I was saying didn't matter. The scowl on my face deepened before I stalked off.

This was not a conversation I wanted to have.

I left the drawing room and headed to my own room, stopping once during the short trip because curiosity got the better of me. The door wasn't closed completely. It was held slightly ajar with a gap that gave me a limited view of the small room behind it.

The purple was very vibrant. It's almost like plum, but a shade lighter - very eye-catching and stands out rather spectacularly in crowds. The material was velvet, probably, there's a shiny sheen that reflects the dreary light from the one open window in the room. Dumbledore looked very odd wearing a velvet, purple suit and sitting on the edge of Riddle's bed.

"Of course I am!" Riddle's voice startled me slightly.

I couldn't hear the rest of the conversation properly without getting too close. Their voices were rather soft after Riddle's outburst.

And then the cupboard near the door that was visible from the gap burst into flames. It was so sudden and it surprised me. I jumped, my breath hitched and I gasped slightly, shuffling my feet and the soles of my shoes squeaked against the wooden floor. And then the fire was gone and the cupboard completely unharmed.

"Who's there?" The bedroom door swung open abruptly and Riddle appeared at the doorway. I glanced around me in reflex but I was the only one in the hall - and the only near his room. "Oh, you. Selwyn."

I turned to face him again, eyes narrowing at the sneer on his face. "Astute observation."

"What are you doing here?"

I huffed. "What? The corridor's yours now, Riddle? I can't be walking back to my room?"

A dangerous glint flashed across his eyes when I talked back and I took a step back unconsciously. He noticed and he smirked. The scowl I had be wearing since earlier deepened.

There was some mumbling coming from the room that I couldn't pick out. Riddle visibly tensed a little at the sound but kept his eyes on me. He took a step back, holding the door open and giving me a full view of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and vice versa. The smirk was gone when he turned around to face Dumbledore. "She is another child at the orphanage here, sir."

"Ah, yes. Miss Selwyn." Dumbledore said in an amused tone as he looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes. "I was hoping to find you later."

"Is she…too, professor?" Riddle asked in a curious tone, but one look at his face told me that he knew the answer already. There was an underlying excitement in his voice - because as it turned out he was right all along; I was special too."Like us?"

"Yes, Tom." Dumbledore replied patiently. "Aisling here is also a witch. And she will join you at Hogwarts in the coming school year." I knew that it was so, but hearing Dumbledore say it made it felt so much more cemented in stone. Perhaps a part of me had always just hoped that it was my childish hallucinations. "Would you like to come in, dear? I could fill you in on the details. It is not an insult, so please, do not give me such an offended expression." His tone was as amused as ever.

Riddle looked disgusted at the prospect of me entering his room. He wasn't alone in that sentiment. My gaze travelled between Riddle and Dumbledore, the latter who was smiling at me good-naturedly and the former who was tapping his feet impatiently. I realized they were waiting for my reply.

"I…no, sir. Riddle and I do not exactly get along. It would be rude of me to be in his room," I replied in a polite tone but I couldn't bring myself to return the man's smile. "And I think you've gotten the wrong person, I'm not a witch."

At my words, Riddle's expression turned angry again. I frowned at him and his weird temper but ignored him otherwise. Dumbledore didn't say anything. I tilted my head in acknowledgement at the aged professor before walking away and returning to my room.

The moment I return to my room I close the door behind me and collapsed onto the floor. It took be a few deep breaths as I tried to calm myself down and slowing the erratic beating of my heart. Dumbledore would be knocking at my doors at any moment now, I had to collect myself and calm down before he did. A certain amount of excitement and confusion was acceptable but the way I was almost on the verge of an anxiety breakdown would definitely strike him as suspicious.

And the last thing I needed was Dumbledore to find me suspicious.

I mentally chastised myself. I had been expecting this day for months now, and unconsciously for years, why was I having such a fit over this.

I had to get a hold of myself and stop being such a stupid girl. I had to pretend I was confused - perhaps I had an inkling of what was going on due to my displays of accidental magic but it was still very surprising when its given an explanation and a name. I had no idea how to deal or look with it. I should ask him about Liam and my family to get as much information out of Dumbledore as I could. Liam was a squib, I knew already but I still had to act affected when he repeated it. And when Hogwarts was brought up, I would reject it. And throughout all of this, I was to avoid direct eye contact with him.

I took another long and deep breath to steady my nerves. I could do this.

There was a knock on the door quicker than I hoped. I stood up from my bed and walked over to the door. I took another deep breath before I opened it. Dumbledore was standing there, an amiable smile on his face. Riddle stood next to him, his face stinking of rotten eggs.

"May I come in, Aisling?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

My gaze travelled from the man to the boy standing beside him. Catching my eyes, Riddle sneered before turning and walking away. I invited Dumbledore into my room. The old wizard in a purple suit sat down on my bed while I pulled my chair from my desk and sat down facing him.

"I'm sure you're very confused at this moment, my dear. My name is Dumbledore. I'm a professor. If you have any questions, I'll be glad to answer." Dumbledore said gently, his eyes never leaving me. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as I tried very hard to avoid his gaze. He waited patiently for me to speak.

"You said," I began, finally, double processing the words in my head before saying them. "You said I'm a witch. What do you mean by it?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Dumbledore replied with an encouraging smile, "You, my girl, are a witch. Like Tom is a wizard and myself too. We can do magic. Have you never noticed things happening around you? Things you can't explain but is real."

My immediate response was to deny and shake my head but I caught myself before I did. There really wasn't any point in lying. So I nodded, if hesitantly. I didn't elaborate on my adventures but Dumbledore seemed satisfied with my answer.

"I am here to offer you, just like I had offered Tom, a place at a school. Hogwarts, is a school where you will be taught how to control your magic as well as learn to further hone and expand your areas in magic." Dumbledore said, still pleasant, and then he continued, "you father went to Hogwarts too."

It must've had been painfully obvious when my head snapped immediately at Dumbledore's words. Now that he mentioned it, I never really thought about it about my magical heritage myself - I was always too preoccupied with the present and the future. "Papa was a wizard?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Alistair Selwyn was a studious and very serious Ravenclaw, graduated with stellar marks. Top grades in Transfiguration. A very good boy, he was."

"Ravenclaw, sir? Transfiguration?" I questioned the professor, feigning confusion at what were supposed to be gibberish words in context.

"Ravenclaw is a house at Hogwarts, along with Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin," Dumbledore answered patiently, "and Transfiguration, is the magic that alters something's form or appearance. In fact, it is the subject I am in charge of in school. You will learn about it and much more, should you accept your place."

"What about mama? Was mama a witch too? Eleanor, she's called. Eleanor Lanier."

"I'm afraid I do not know of an Eleanor Lanier, my dear," Dumbledore replied apologetically, "but the Lanier family, like your father's Selwyn family, are both Pureblood wizarding lines, the former originating from France, if I do recall. So it's safe to assume that both your parents were magical, Aisling, like you."

Pureblood. I was pureblood. I couldn't hide the surprise and it showed on my face. Dumbledore chuckled softly.

"And Liam?"

Dumbledore's reply wasn't as quick this time. He kept his smile pleasant but when he spoke, his tone was even more apologetic than previously. "I'm afraid your brother isn't magical. It's not uncommon, and we call them squibs, referring to a non-magical persons born out of a magical family. Liam's name did not appear on Hogwart's admission scroll that records every magical baby born in Britain."

It's already something that I knew, but having Dumbledore reiterate it made it unchangeable. I had been hoping, praying that I was wrong. But, alas, I was right. I took a deep breath.

"Thank you, professor. But I'll have to reject the offer. It is, voluntary, right? The offer for a place at Hogwarts." I tried to keep my voice leveled and refused to let the regret and unjust I was already feeling seep into my voice. "I can't just leave my brother alone."

Dumbledore's smile was back as he reached out and patted me on my shoulder softly. "No need to be hasty in your decision, Aisling. You can take some time to ponder on your choice and change your mind. I have a feeling you will, my dear. And I'm usually good at guesses."

Dumbledore began standing and he handed me a piece of paper. "I believe it's time I leave. You will be able to reach me at this address should you change your mind."

As the old man left, I couldn't stop myself, thinking that this was the last time I would ever meet the man. I pulled open my desk drawer and scrounged around in there. I knew I had it. I smirked when I found it. Dumbledore was almost out of my room when I turned back to him.

"Professor," I called. Dumbledore turned from where he stood at the doorway to look at me. I held out my hand at him with what must have been a silly smile on my face. "Would you like a sherbet lemon?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he looked down at me as he reached out to take the tiny sweet from my hand. "Indeed, I am very fond of these sweets myself. Thank you." He paused, turning to leave before turning back to look at me again. "My dear, why do I have the distinct feeling that you knew about all of what I told you in our conversation earlier before I told you?"

My smile froze on my face immediately and Dumbledore winked at me before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Emily was right. I was a terrible liar.


End file.
